


Beautifully Blinded

by journeycat



Category: PIERCE Tamora - Works, Protector of the Small - Tamora Pierce, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Denial of Feelings, F/M, Midwinter, Mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 02:36:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4770350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/journeycat/pseuds/journeycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lerant prepares for the worst, and is surprised and betrayed by his own emotions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautifully Blinded

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the Advent Calendar at Goldenlake in December 2009.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Lerant, where do you think you're going?"

Lerant whipped around irritably, his temper already frayed from the pressure of Midwinter hassle. He was carrying a three-inch-thick solid gold platter nearly two feet in diameter and his muscles were feeling the weight. His nerves were not soothed at the sight of Wolset's smirking face.

"I'm carrying this for milady Doanna," he snapped. "It's Fenrigh's midwinter gift to the queen. Why's it any business of yours?"

"Well, it's not," Wolset said, his expression suspiciously gleeful, "but I happen to have quite a bit of interest in _that_."

Puzzled, Lerant followed the direction he was pointing and found himself staring at a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the center of the doorway through which he just passed, prettily tied with a red bow.

"It's mistletoe," he said disdainfully. "So what?"

"So," the shorter man said in a voice that suggested he thought Lerant was daft, "don't you know what it means?"

"I'm not dim-witted, Wolset, I know you kiss the person standing under it with you. I still don't see your point."

"My point, stupid, is that you have to kiss her."

"I thought the point was that she had to be under it the same time as you."

"She was."

"When?"

"When you came through just a minute ago. You brushed right by her."

"Who?"

"Milady."

"Oh, that narrows it down a bit."

Wolset rolled his eyes and was about to say something Lerant suspected would be very rude when they were interrupted by an unpleasantly familiar voice, "Dom, what are you talking about?"

Lerant turned around, facing the doorway, and saw a disgustingly cheerful-looking Domitan forcefully tugging Lady Knight Keladry behind him. Her expression was completely bewildered.

He turned to Wolset and said sharply, "No."

"You don't have a choice," Wolset whispered back fiercely, triumphant. "Unless, of course..." His eyes lifted skyward and he adopted an unconvincing pious tone as he continued, "...you want to anger the Great Mother by refusing to follow her holy rules."

"They're not the Goddess' rules, stupid," Lerant snapped. "It's some dumb tradition made up by your peasant ancestors. Seriously, I'm not—"

"—kissing _Lerant_."

He glanced over at Keladry and Dom, frowning. She had her hands on her hips and was gazing up at the sergeant with an exasperated expression. She said no like _he_ was the undesirable one.

"You were under the mistletoe," Dom cajoled. "You have to."

"I don't have to," Kel snorted. "Just because you boys like to take advantage of every opportunity to steal a kiss from a lady doesn't mean I do."

"It's unethical besides," Lerant said to Wolset. "She's milord's former squire and I'm his standard-bearer. If someone sees, it will damage everyone's reputation, and I won't have anyone say anything against milord."

"Who's going to see?" Wolset exclaimed, flinging his arms open. "No one's in the great hall except for the Own, and most of them are busy helping with the decorations. Besides, we all know nothing ever happened with you and Kel—Mithros, Lerant, you haven't been good and bedded in years—"

They scuffled for a bit, and ended only when Lerant managed to get Wolset in a headlock. "I said no."

"Oh, come on, you two," Dom said. "You're both so rigid all the time. Just one kiss, it won't mean anything. It's tradition. For gods' sake, it's _midwinter_."

"But—"

"The war is almost over and our royal prince and princess have given us an heir. Where is your _spirit?_ "

Lerant slumped. He had a suspicion that his friends had absolutely no intention of letting him escape. And there was so much to do still—he couldn't afford any more delays if he didn't want to let Raoul down. He had promised him he'd see the great hall decorated for the king and queen's semi-private midwinter party, so damn it, he'd do it. _It's just a kiss_ , he consoled himself. _Just don't gag on her breath or get too close, and that'll be the end of it_.

Keladry was eyeing him doubtfully, looking as resigned as he felt. He could not help but notice Dom had a rather firm grip on her shoulder.

"Let's get this over with then," he sighed. He was disappointed that not even a hint of offense broke through her bland expression.

Lerant leaned in and touched his lips to hers.

It was supposed to be quick and dreadful—he had simply expected to suffer through it. But her breath was hot as it whispered against his face, heavy with the scent of sweet cider, and she smelled deliciously of hay and virgin snow, and her mouth was soft beneath his, brimming with possibilities. The blood roared in his ears, drowning out Wolset and Dom's oblivious laughter. Little colored lights exploded somewhere in his head, behind his eyes, until all he saw was a brilliant blaze. And it all happened in a mere three seconds, two seconds longer than he meant to endure, before he finally, reluctantly pulled away.

For a moment, their eyes met, and there was no one else in the world. _She felt it, too_ , he thought, half-relieved, and almost a little frightened.

Then he was grounded, hard, an almost physical drop that would have off-balanced him but for Wolset slinging an arm around his shoulders and whooping in his ear.

Dom was ruffling her hair, laughing and saying something to her as she left the hall. Lerant turned away.

"Get off me, Wolset," Lerant said irritably, "and get back to work."

"It wasn't so bad, though, now was it?" Wolset grinned.

_I can't believe I did it_ , Lerant thought in forced disgust, scowling at his smirking comrades as he strode by them. He barely noticed the weight of the gold platter. _I just kissed The Girl, all because of some stupid little plant_.

Still, his mouth tingled for a long time afterwards, from a warm kiss that lingered ever so sweetly on his lips.


End file.
